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Sunday, June 2, 2013

Thursday, March 22, 2001, about 6:40pm

I'm sitting here at the S&S waiting, or maybe no waiting for my dinner companion. So far there is just me and this notebook - scribbled in for, and on paper, the first time in a long time - not counting the really tiny one that fits in a pocket.

My dinner companion? A woman who convinced me, yet again of her seriousness two days ago. How can one not admire her? She left me feeling that she was serious even while she wasn't. It has always been my opinion that if a person can fake something so well that it appears to be real, then that's good enough for me. As good, even better than the real thing. Because to be able to fake means you know exactly what the real thing means. Love is one of those things that can be faked. For me its ok if a person fakes loving me. They have to be up to what my standards are, however, for the faking to be acceptable.

My companion, for this alleged evening, doesn't believe that C really loves me because she also has sex with another man. My impression is that C also loves this other man. My alleged companion for the evening does not believe C loves me. That its just a matter of convenience - her being with me, instead of the other man. My impression is that C loves both of us. This explains her being with both of us for 17 years with me, and 20 years with him. She has both of us in just the way she wants us - although from time to time she wishes the one who is writing this had more money. The other guy definitely has more money since his wealthy father died. This has not caused her to leave me for him - although she has had that thought.

My broiled salmon has arrived... along with a blonde floozy who appears to be here with mother and aunt, I'd guess. She is working class blond and attractive. Although the mom is over-dressed, fashion-wise.

Do we live in a world where its impossible to love more than one sexual partner? Its certainly possible to have more than one sexual partner, either serially or at the same time. My alleged companion for the evening (hereafter known as AC) has had thoughts of more than one sexual companion at a time. And many people have done this. But the problem is that they don't want any of their sexual partners to have other sexual partners. Each person wants to be in control of their partners.

The blonde remarks: I'm seeing somebody, but he's got a kid.

So the person with more than one partner has to keep an eye out for wandering and, generally, deceive each of them about what's going on. C was doing this when we first me. Eventually, with considerable conversation and humor, I convinced her to tell all. It happened one day, during a several hour phone conversation. She was sweating the whole time. Things were considerably more relaxed between us after that. And this to me being the first man she ever really lived with - in spite of being married for 10 years. She was married, but not really there.

So what is this woman faking, been faking for 17 years, and leading AC to think she's not really in love with me? To start with, the sex is still pretty good - although she could be fantasizing that its with the other guy. Conversation is open, open-ended and comfortable nearly all the time. She takes very good care of me - all the time, with cooking, cleaning, laundry and paying the bills. Although one might say she would be doing this for herself anyway. But that doesn't explain her going out of the way to find blueberries or mango things. She always seems to have her eyes open for that kind of thing - and she has no taste for them. And then she's picked me to live with. A not very tall, slightly chubby, balding, over the hill guy with a limited sexual imagination and appetite. I don't do much around the house except pretend to work and play with my dog. A few people find my writing and photographs amusing. Only one woman has ever thought enough of me to make me a father - and that turned out to be the biggest mistake she would ever make.

So the only reasonable conclusion is that C must be faking loving me. Well its good enough for me. Besides, one has to admire C for doing a good enough job at faking it. She was considering the theater, at one time, for a career. Maybe she's really not good enough to catch a man better than me! That could be why she's with me. When I think about it, it couldn't possibly be love. Anyway, how could an over-the-hill ne'er do well know anything about love?

Clearly all those year with me and R are just for the sex.

Is any of the above clear? I've just about finished my second toasted almond.

Which brings me, finally, around to AC and why she's not my dinner companion this evening...

There were the emails and phone conversations about my schedule and a convenient time for both of us. And, I must admit, her tone of voice and conviction were convincing. It didn't feel like an offer to make fun of - yet again. It felt different from previous and recent expressions of desire to work on the script. But not this evening. The obvious explanation was getting a free ticket to a fashion show. But she didn't want to go alone so there was an attempt, would be an attempt, to get a ticket for ST, her current Mr Maybe (often referred to as Mr Right by the woman in a typical couple relationship).

She wrote me this explanation about what could now happen in the future, which included the promise of dinner - if the other thing didn't happen. I responded by asking if this sequence of events, this story, sounded familiar. There were no messages or phone call after that. I suspect someone may have burst into flames, or started smoldering, from those words. Of course, there could also be another story I've not heard.

And now, at this very moment, writing these words, by myself, I've thought of some reasons why this pattern happens with AC. There are three reasons that occur to me.

The first has to do with her self doubts about her abilities. The latest idea is grad school. UCLA's film school,possibly the best in the world. She wishes herself to be able but has doubts. You can't get in there without a portfolio. She doesn't have one that would allow her to compete at that level. So avoiding producing anything allows her to imagine herself capable - there are all these REASONS why she's not gotten to it. There's the job, there's the boyfriend, there's the fashion show, etc. Other people don't have all those obstacles in their life. So that explains why she can't work on the script, or other film projects that could be used to create a portfolio.

Number two would be ST. A fragile character. She imagines its ok to spend time with me. She imagines it doesn't bother him. He's biting his tongue. She knows from experience what will happen if she threatens to not have sex. He will bite his tongue. She confuses his being quiet with his calculations about speaking out or her withdrawing sexually. This will work as long as he doesn't have anyone else. She will know he's got someone else when it doesn't get her what she wants. And she wants to work on these projects with me. She imagines me to have considerable imagination. So she is forced to risk something with him and his loyalty to get my qualifies to assist her projects. Which are, at the same time, our projects, which present a problem for ST as our projects represent a wedge into their relationship. On the other hand, she's willing to take this risk of his bolting because he is far more committed to the relationship than her. Last September 15, 2000, she switched strategies. She would no longer look for someone to fall in love with. She looked for someone to fall in love with her. Much less chance of getting "hurt". She recently remarked about a friend, D, who is now using the same strategy. In spite of very different backgrounds the two of them had a similar experience and opted for the same less risk strategy. Ah, the power of biology at work!

The third explanation concerns me. How badly, and how many times can she disappoint me, twist me around, offer her time to me, prove to her that I lover, before I'll give up in disgust, and tell her to go away. When a normal guy would dump her if there was no sex by the third date, why am I still hanging on? I must be retarded, stupid, desperate, or, the best of all possibilities - in love with her. But you can't be too sure. Time to do some testing. Make me jump through hoops, into fire, for her. Prove there is nothing she can do that will push me away or give up on her. This is a common female strategy. Most of the women I've known have settled on this strategy. Its the safest way to a more secure mating. Or, as Adele once said, I picked you for your earning potential. Obviously that strategy doesn't always work. And neither does love.

What's the real story? I've placed them in order of most to least important. Stay tuned...

Thursday, March 26, 1981 - the center of attention

I have just returned from the office. It is 1:30am in the morning. Something inside me was very paranoid. I kept looking around as though someone was in the room with me, and behind my back. It was impossible not to turn around and look at the door for less than a few moments. Simone called me from Michael's. He went upstairs to do something, meditate. He talked a lot of not marrying her again. Yesterday he figured out why he is not going to marry her. He will do it in his next life. Furthermore, he will be the woman. She almost left twice to come home. It was 1am. She must get some sleep as she is substitute teaching at the Harrington School, has a Brookline School after school class, and her group later in the evening.

Called San Francisco about 11 to speak to Jud. He was out. Eve answered. I must say that the whole conversation from her end sounded a bit pre-recorded. It seemed as though she was reading from a menu of stock questions. The jargon was everywhere. The theories was everywhere. The wearies was very wary. Where E the marry very leery Larry. All these ideas about how things should be done and not so much just letting things happen and see what comes of it and then change something to see how to make it better things happening. An odd sensation of talking to a priest. The phone conversation was like a ritual. It seems Jud started writing every day, but wasn't able to really continue it. Not enough discipline. To myself I sort of say, well, I won't have to worry about competing with him. He won't be yapping at my heels. Time shows me to be the better man! But this sort of satisfaction is short-lived. I feel better only because someone else is not doing so well. Always this sense of relief when someone fails. I put myself in the position of having to compete, and then worry about not winning, instead of doing something with myself. This funny tightening sensation in my head. Like a towel being twisted and wrung out. Makes my head seem as though it is being turned to the left.

Simone left to be with Michael sometime after 9 this evening. Shortly before I got a little tense and nervous. Then a burning sensation in my face. It spread to the front of my body. Almost like the front being painted or having a hot sun shine on me. The sensation was more intense in the arms and hands. A feeling of wanting to take something and destroy or squeeze it. A sort of excited feeling when you expect a bear to jump out from the bushes, but you don't know exactly when, or which bush.

There was some possibility that Jeannette might invite me over for supper this evening. I did call Nina, who I sent a copy of my notes. She found them very revealing. She is still a Mormon. Seems she converted about 3 years ago in NYC. We have made a date for tomorrow evening. I tell her how she is very attractive to me. That I want to sleep with her. She doesn't know about this, but she would like to see me. Lotti turned me/down earlier this evening. At first she didn't take me seriously. Then it was that I asked only as a matter of convenience. If someone elsewas available, that I would have taken them. But that doesn't goeither. It seems she gives each of these ideas up by herself. I don't have to challenge them. Finally it is that she can't do it now. At first there was a bit of panic in me about he asking. Then it turned to the burning sensation. From time to time a sense of rage and hatred would erupt from inside me. But go down very quickly. A sensation of being inside a box. I am expanding, filling more and more of the box. Everything is getting tight. I can't see or feel what's going on. Its just like this emotionally. Everything starts to get vague. I can't figure out what's happening. From time to time it gets serious, then funny. I get insulted for a moment and tell her she will never be as good as Simone for this very reason, namely, resisting like this. She is always fighting with John's resistance. She expect something of him that she is also incapable of. But its not much more than a bunch of sour grapes for me. I have this same version of my own problems. I just manage to find people who are more inept, stubborn, stupid, resistant, and crazy than me.

Called Bryant about 10pm. Itseems my notes, and me, were the main topic of conversation at the Tuesday night dream group. I learn that this is often so. Wow! I must really be hot shit. They all like my writing very much. They don't know of anything like it. At least not any contemporaries, and nothing so revealing from a man. Simone often mentions Anias Nin to me as being somewhat similar. They talked about having me change the names in it before any publication. It seems they think some people might sue me. Michael says he will if anything with his name gets into print. Welcome to the new age of openness and honesty! Simone thinks Jeff would be especially enraged about what's written about him. That he might even do something destructive to me or my business. I think this is true to some extent, and will probably do this. It could all be types on a computer and then word substitution automatically done. So anyway, Bryant this evening. She had not read the notes. The others had read some or most of them. She did not want to take a copy because she didn't think it would be ok with me. It was of course, but she seems a bit paranoid about me. She wanted to have a copy, but has now decided she doesn't want to read them. She excused herself by saying that she was in the middle of something and that she would call me to talk sometime. Simone is very skeptical of this explanation. Ha! she says. So I have been enjoying myself all day with the idea that they spend all this time talking about me. The best part was about monogamy. Bryant thinks Simone has more than one relationship as a way of avoiding being close to any one person. Withdrawn, reclusive, tight-assed, uptight, closed Bryant thinks that open, honest, friendly, direct, sensual, loving, attentive Simone is avoiding close relationships! This is exactly the source of all the energy that makes her so admired, envied, and liked by all her friends. It, this following her feelings in sexual and emotional matters, is what they are jealous of and would like to have for themselves. I can't believe that Simone has fallen for this ridiculous line from Bryant. Bryant who was led on by a 55 year old married man who kept telling her he would leave his wife. Bryant who spends almost all her time with a man who is even more superficial, closed, and withdrawn. He recoiled from an embrace by Simone when he and Bryant came to the Saturday night party. This shit for brains asshole tells Simone to throw away the best thing she has, her ability to get love, and what for - because she needs to be alone, to get rid of me. It reminds her of all the underhanded little fantasies I have about doing people in, of ruining them. Simone is the way she is because of her experience. Her experience is that she seldom resists her feelings about anyone, especially men. It makes her whole world and view so much broader than the tight little rooms any of her friends live in. From all this experience she has learned how to make me, or anyone, much happier. She knows a lot about how to make everyday life good for herself and the people around her. They on the other hand, are forever withdrawing and not having the chance to experience and learn things. It seems she learns something big about herself everyday. Her friends come to her with the same old problems, over and over. They alternate between being completely withdrawn and asking her for help. I seldom see them offer, or even be capable, of helping Simone.

An odd impression in my head just now. Its of the lost little girl in Simone. Counter to what I have just written, but also there. This is the side she shows mostly to me. She tells them, the people at the dream group, that I've sent a copy of my notes to her new beau. But later she confesses that its only her fantasy. She does this to me often to get the sympathy and support of the people around her. It's the reason they always tell her to leave me. He'll only hurt you some day, they say. He will leave you for one of those other women. She confesses that what she wants is someone who will be faithful to her, someone that she can depend on, but at the same time who will allow her to have whatever relationships with other men she wants. It comes out exactly that directly. And then, when I am unable to make as much happen as her, I think, why not give it up, spend the time getting money for a group leader. Things will be much better when someone is here. But its also an excuse for not following what I want.

I suddenly feel sort of silly sitting here scratching my head, trying to figure out what to write next. Why am I doing this. But I also notice that writing all these things down makes me feel a little better. The fingers are really flying now. It feels like a very real form of catharsis. Some of these unpleasant feelings actually go away while I write these very words. I am alive. What an odd sensation. It drifts around like a cork in a large turbulent sea. In and out of awareness. Sometimes good and then bad. Chaotic and then organized. Clear and then fuzzy. Scratching my head. Simone says I'm getting bald. I rationalize and tell her how my father and grandfather have exactly the same hairline. But their hair is even thinner than mine. The shape of the hairline is called a Widow's Peak, I think. Its getting too long. Soon a haircut.

I have done some art work in the last few days. A picture of a pig. One day this image of a pig kept coming up. And that I wanted to draw one. I thought about mounting some of the pictures drawn while on FH. The green lady of Otto's is my favorite.

Business has been very good. Some old bills start to go away. A call today about an order that will be for more than $1000. Type Judy's resume tomorrow. Time to go beddie-bye.

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A Memoir About Art & Sex During The Reagan Years (The Cambridge Chronicles, 1981 Edition)

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